Numbing the Pain
by Exploding Pumpkinhead
Summary: This is just a collection of one shots set in the magical world of the BMT. Will include many periods, and will jump around on the timeline, perhaps even into the prequel and sequel series.


Regin and Sonea: Through the Looking Glass:

 **A/N: Hi, guys! This is a Traitor Spy Trilogy fic, set in The Rogue. ReginxSonea pairing, so please DON'T read if you dislike this pairing. This is my first fic EVER, so I would appreciate no flaming, but constructive criticism and feedback is welcome. This fic is kind of weird. This is a series of one-shots that branch off of each other. You can read each one individually, but they go together. This one has A LOT of dialogue, but that's just to lay a foundation for the coming chappies! Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: However much I would like to own BMT and TST, it all belongs to Trudi, except for the plot, which is mine. Take my plot, and I will . . . do . . . something. But it won't be good!**

 _Tap. Tap. Tap._ Regin cursed under his breath. He did not want to be disturbed at that particular moment. He channeled all of his frustration into a fierce scowl, planning to scare his visitor away. As soon as he opened the door, however, Regin's expression softened to a much more tender emotion.

"Black Magician Sonea," Regin greeted the woman at his door, "to whatever do I owe the pleasure of your visit – and at such a late hour?" Noticing what Sonea was carrying, Regin did not give her the chance to reply before firing off his next question. "And what in the name of the Eye is the bottle of wine for?" Sonea looked saddened for a moment, and Regin remembered that that was an expression Akkarin often used, but before he could apologize, Regin was interrupted by Sonea's answers to his questions.

"Well, Regin, I should have sent word, but I just heard about your wife," Regin visibly flinched, "and I knew that you would want something to drink that you could be sure wasn't spiked with nemmin by a meddling servant."

Regin nodded his thanks and asked what wine it was. "It's a vintage called Anuren Dark. It was recommended to me by a man with one of the best wine palates I have ever seen. Regin, I want to get a few things straight before you get too drunk to understand them." Sonea's voice was throaty, and thick with emotion. Regin's heart started to beat faster, and the room suddenly felt much hotter. "Well," he prodded, "what are they?" "First of all," Sonea began, "I am not here to pity you, because that is not what you want or need right now. If it was, I would be disappointed. Second, I want you to know that you are not the only one who's ever had to go through loss, regret, and loneliness, among other things. If you want to talk, my door is always open. Thirdly, I want you to know that anything that happened in our Novice days is in the past, and you have been forgiven of it all. Fourthly, if you still hold the same prejudices, which I do not believe for one second, remember that I can and will kick your arse in a fight and still have enough energy for a victory dance. Lastly, and most importantly, I am here for you, if you need a friend, a shoulder to cry on, whatever, I'm there, no problems whatsoever."

Regin's heart was soaring at this point, and a little monster called Desire was stirring in the pit of his stomach. Regin grinned a real grin, and gestured to the wine bottle.

"Well, if you're quite finished, I say we crack this puppy open, and get dangerously drunk for a magician?" "Fine, but if you start to lose Control, I _will_ take you to the Healers." Regin grinned at this, and grabbed two glasses.

Sonea poured so that the two glasses were filled to the brim, and asked how Regin was holding up.

"I-I don't know," Regin admitted shamefully. "Somedays, I feel like I'm on top of the world, but then, other days I – I," Regin broke off, clearly embarrassed. "Regin, its okay." Sonea gently prodded. "You don't have to worry about impressing me. Everyone has their weak moments, Regin, and I find it impressive in those who are willing to share the pain. I don't however," Sonea said, a disapproving tone inflecting her voice, "find masochists _playing_ at pain impressive at all." Regin looked in to her dark, earnest eyes, and found strength and solace there. He took a deep breath, and continued. "A-and somedays, I-I guess I can see why my wife would have tried to take her own life. S-somedays, I want to try it, and that scares me more than anything." Regin, to his surprise and dismay, started sobbing uncontrollably.

Sonea pulled him into a fierce embrace, stroking his hair and murmuring comforting words into his ear. It was a while before she spoke again. "I was the same, Regin. I locked myself in my room for weeks, just wishing that the burden of living could be lifted from my shoulders." Regin couldn't help but be slightly indignant. "Easy for you to say!" Regin said, his voice rising with wine-induced anger. "You had Lorkin, and Rothen, the Guild, and Kyralia! What do I have to live for? Huh? Can you answer me that?"

Sonea's back stiffened, then loosened again. "Regin," she began in a disapproving tone, "I know that you are upset, but that is no reason to push those away who are only trying to help you. And what are you talking about? You have plenty to live for!" "Like what," Regin asked, "What _do_ I have to live for?" "Regin," Sonea asked, surprised, "you have the Guild, your King, magic, the hunt for Skellin, and any others you've come to love. Anyway," Sonea said, her voice breaking, "Lorkin is a captive in a land I have basically declared war on, Rothen's getting old, Kyralia hated my people before I saved their sorry arses from Kariko, and the Guild is more of a prison than a home. What have _I_ to live for Regin? Huh?"

Regin seemed taken aback, then answered softly. "Me," he said fiercely, "you have me to live for. Sonea, if you cease to live, then I swear I will, too. You don't need a reason to live, Sonea; you're just that strong of a person. You don't give up, you're the smartest person I have ever met, you have so much drive, and you – you're," Regin whispered the last part, "and you're beautiful." Sonea smiled sadly, and returned her own compliments. "Regin, you never back down, you always stand up for what you believe in, you always do what's right in your eyes, and you don't look so bad yourself."

"Look at us!" Regin snorted suddenly. "Former enemies googling each other and getting all mushy, say, are you _sure_ this wine isn't spiked?" "Quite," Sonea replied in that deep, beautiful voice of hers.

Regin and Sonea sat together and chatted like old friends. _Like old friends,_ Regin thought sadly, _nothing more._ Then, feeling quite foolish, Regin shook his head. _Just be glad she's willing to be your friend. Had your positions been reversed_ , Regin thought, _you would not have done the same, so shut up and be happy._ Still, Regin could not help feeling disappointed.

Sonea swirled the wine in her glass, and launched into a story from her teen years that involved her, Cery, another boy named Harrin, and a daring mission to steal a bottle of wine. Sonea laughed when she got to the part when they poured too much, and the three teens wound up drunk. The story finished when Sonea managed to stumble home, and was greeted by a fuming Aunt Jonna, and Sonea's ears were promptly boxed. Regin laughed at the picture it put in his mind, and in turn told a tale from his own childhood involving Regin himself, his best friend, his best friend's brother, a river, and very wet clothes. Sonea laughed, then patted his shoulder consolingly. Despite the platonic gesture, Regin's muscles tensed under her touch.

Sonea and Regin went back and forth like this for a while, until they ran out of stories and fell into a companionable silence.

Regin, with the Anuren Dark making him bold, leaned forward, ever so slowly, until his lips found Sonea's who replied passionately. She slid a hand into his curly locks, and he slipped a hand over her slender waist. Regin opened his mouth, and he felt Sonea's tongue – tentative and sweet with wine – slide in to greet his own.

It was heaven, until Sonea broke away, gasping for air. "Sonea, what is it?" Regin asked, suddenly self-conscious, "Did I do something wrong," he asked worriedly, "Did I?" Sonea couldn't help but chuckle. "No, Regin," she said, "I might even go as far as to say you're a better kisser than Akkarin himself was." Regin grinned at that, but the smile soon fell from his face. "Then why…" Regin asked, his eyes showing his confusion. Sonea sighed. "Because of your wife. Because of the Guild. Because someone like you deserves better than me." The tears that had been pooling in Sonea's eyes spilled over, and she made no effort to wipe them away.

"Sonea, my dear, dear, Sonea," Regin began, "my wife is my wife only on paper. She stopped being that for _me_ the day that I first found her in bed with another man. The Guild, does not have to know about this, and that whole lie about me deserving better is just that: a lie. And I don't believe in lies."

This pushed poor Sonea over the edge, and she started to cry again. Regin swore and rushed to her side. He pulled her close, comforting her. He wiped her tears away with a calloused finger. When Sonea did not reply, however, Regin turned away, sighing.

Just as he was about to get up, he felt Sonea's arms around his waist, pulling him back onto the chair. She spun him around to face her, and shifted her legs so she was sitting on his lap. Their faces were inches apart, and getting closer. Sonea's eyes fluttered shut, and she closed the distance, claiming his lips with hers.

As the two broken souls mended each other with their closeness, Sonea asked the question they had both been longing to hear. "Promise me," she said, "that as long as we're together, we'll fix each other." "Always," Regin said with meaning.

 **A/N: Whew! Finished that one. If you have the time, please R &R! In case you were wondering, the song "Fix You," by Coldplay inspired this one! Love y'all! **


End file.
